


Counterpoint Trio

by yellowrose87



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowrose87/pseuds/yellowrose87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because not every scene made it into Ohba's story. Here we have vignettes with related themes, featuring a number of characters and settings. Mild LxLightxL lemon in Chapter One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I make no money off my fanfics. I and my fangirly squealings are unworthy of being sued. This fic is **rated M** for sexual situations and grisly character death.
> 
> This three-part oneshot, like my fic "A Dream on Silence," was originally supposed to be part of a much longer LxLightxL story I'll never finish. At some point I started looking through the old drafts and decided there were a few scenes that could be salvaged as stand-alone vignettes. So I polished and largely rewrote them, and here they are! They have similar themes, so there is some rhyme and reason behind the way they're slapped together. They're presented in chronological order, and they take place in the same DN universe, which is basically canon but with a humping Light and L.
> 
> As you may have noticed, the title says "Counterpoint Trio," while this story as posted seems to have _four_ chapters. The fourth posted chapter is a drabble I choose to call a "Bonus Mini," and it's only tangentially related to the rest. Mainly, I just like it and thought it would be a nice coda to the story. Also, it allows my story to have **both three and four chapters** , which makes me very, very happy, for reasons that should become clear by the time you've read the thing.
> 
> I called it "Counterpoint Trio" because in music, counterpoint refers to musical lines that sound different and have different rhythms on their own, but sound harmonious when played together. These vignettes are basically that way, too, and so I think they're best read together.
> 
> This first scene takes place at an indeterminate time – mainly because it was originally two scenes, one set quite a bit later than the other. On the one hand, Light appears to be without his memories, while on the other, L talks about rules of the Death Note which he only learns after Light regains his memories. So, let's just ignore that last bit and pretend L learns about the Death Note sooner than in canon, okay? Okay. Let's go!

****

**Chapter One: East and West**

Light closed his eyes as L kissed up and down his body, running his hands here, there, and everywhere with unusual urgency. Trailing his own fingers up into L's hair, Light encountered a constricting cloth over L's eyes.

A blindfold?

"They say your other senses grow sharper," said L, a bit breathlessly. Light stared at him in shock and arousal, unable to believe that the man who never closed his eyes would let his guard down so far, and wondering how long he had been planning this and when he had prepared that black cloth….Then L leaned down to kiss him and Light that decided none of that mattered now, roving his hands over L's body while L ran his own fingers greedily over Light's, as if trying to re-learn every inch through touch alone. Though careful, those hands were unusually clumsy, and throughout L's slow exploration they poked or scratched Light more than once.

"Sorry," L whispered after accidentally elbowing Light in the stomach, his lips close to Light's face so that the whisper tickled his chin. Light smiled a smile he knew that L could not see.

Now L was straddling Light, sitting back on Light's stomach with his calves clamped tightly against Light's sides. He found that he was enjoying the strange feeling of not knowing how to orient himself in space, and the heady dizziness that accompanied it. He felt like a child playing a new and interesting game, still unsure of the rules but thrilling to the experience.

He smiled as an idea occurred to him.

"Marco," he called into the void, the corners of his mouth upturned.

He could almost see Light's baffled face staring up at him.

"…You're supposed to say 'Polo,'" L clarified.

"Oh…uhh…'Polo.'"

"Ahhh, there you are," L breathed, and with that he lowered himself atop Light, so that they lay skin to skin from ankle to shoulder. And then they were kissing…soon they were rocking together in a slow rhythm that grew to feverish grinding, pleasure spinning higher and higher like a cyclone until it finally subdued them, and they sagged against each other, gasping. L pushed off the blindfold and flung it somewhere, making a mental note to use it again one day.

"…Marco Polo?" Light asked, after they'd had a minute to come down.

"It's a Western children's game, Light-kun, I wouldn't have expected you to know it. But as I'm sure you know, Marco Polo the man was one of the first Western explorers into the Far East." His hands moved suggestively over Light's body. "Exploring undiscovered Asian territory…" he whispered. "Learning its secrets…"

Light shivered, but held his ground. "And haven't I learned any of your secrets, too?"

"Not any ones that matter. Barring a catastrophe – which could still happen – you will never know my name, or where I was born, or where I usually live, or anything substantial about me."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Light said playfully, and when L gave him a suspicious look he squeezed L's asscheek to make his point clear. "Anyway, I know a number of important things about you. For one thing, as you've just hinted, you're a Westerner."

" _De facto_ , yes. But I have some Eastern blood in me, and I've spent time in a variety of countries throughout my life, including some in this part of the world."

"Of course. You crouch like an Easterner, yet your barefoot habit couldn't seem more foreign here, where everyone wears socks and slippers at home. You love cake and _ohagi_. You always drink black tea instead of green, but you never add milk the way the British do. Your Japanese is flawless, but you don't belong in Japan. You are neither here nor there, a real citizen of the world, not to mention an expert at keeping us all guessing what you really are. In the end, though…your loyalty is to the West, isn't it?"

"Inasmuch as I have any loyalty to any place at all – any sense of belonging anywhere – I suppose you could say that. And it's interesting you should bring that up, because I have long considered Kira to be a uniquely Eastern foe."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, Kira deals with Japanese superstitions and magic, with mythical figures such as the _shinigami_ ; he fancies himself a god – a _kami_ , like the old emperors of Japan were thought to be. He may believe that his is the way of the future, and a global way at that, but in truth he represents Japan at its most insular and old-fashioned."

"Hmm. Perhaps…"

"I, however, come from a very different place. I was born in the West, and as you pointed out, that is my home insofar as I have one. Science is my way; computers and electronics invented in the West are my tools. I look to the world at large, not some little island in the Pacific – or the Atlantic, for that matter. I always look to the future, never the past."

"Now _that_ I don't doubt. It's hard to imagine that you even _have_ a past, let alone a home nation with a past as long as Japan's."

"That can be an advantage," L whispered. "If I had not erased my own past, Kira would have killed me long ago. And as for him….If he wants to make this a battle of Eastern magic vs. Western science, or the past vs. the future, then I can tell you now which side will win. It won't be his." His face was inches from Light's, and he stared hard into Light's eyes as he spoke. After a moment, though, his gaze softened and he relaxed his body against Light's – with some effort, like a tight fist unclenching. He laid his head on Light's chest, and Light reached down to stroke his hair, and they remained like that for a minute or two.

"Maybe I don't give enough credit to all that old superstition, though," L continued without raising his head, seeming much calmer now. "Until this case, I would never have thought _shinigami_ existed outside of old wives' tales, but now I know better. What else don't I know? Heh, I've always thought it a fascinating, even silly, quirk of Japanese and other East Asian languages that the words for the number four are the same as the words for 'death' – ' _shi_ ' in Japanese, ' _si_ ' in Chinese, etc. It's the Westerner in me showing itself, I guess. But it would appear that you were right all along. 40 seconds from writing until death, 400 seconds to write down details….Is there something the East knows that the West doesn't? Some metaphysical knowledge…?

"I think the multiples of four are just a coincidence, Ryuzaki, like many things people see as meaningful….Ryuzaki, do you know the story of the _shi-ju shichi-shi_?"

L raised his head and grinned at Light. "Of course I do, Light-kun. It's been called the national legend, has it not? A renowned samurai master is put to death for drawing his sword on the powerful Lord Kira Yoshinaka. His disciples and students, the Forty-seven Ronin of the story's title, band together in a vendetta against the lord, killing him in the end, but not without condemning themselves to death, too. Yes, it's an interesting coincidence, the themes of _shi_ and a campaign against Kira bound together in this old story, so intrinsic to Japan. Not a very happy tale, though, is it?"

"I suppose not."

"Huh…three times unlucky…" L mused. "Well, at least they did get their Kira in the end….Didn't they cut off his head, and bring it to their master's grave?"

Light raised his eyebrows, but the corners of his mouth turned up. "You don't have to seem so happy about it."

"Well, I always love a good revenge story. You ever read _Hamlet_ , Light-kun?"

 

 **A/N** : Somehow, despite my love for LxLightxL, this was (originally) my first posted fic in which they _actually talk to each other_. Weird.

In my original story, Light was supposed to be blind from birth, à la Nilahxapiel's challenge on FFN a million years ago. So, the idea was that L puts on the blindfold to see what sex is like for Light, and they end up having kinky sex in which neither of them can see, so for once they're equal that way. But I like the scene this way, too. No matter what the excuse, a blindfolded L is always a good thing XD

I put in the bit about how L crouches "like an Easterner" because the sight of people crouching just like L is really not that uncommon in East Asia. For example, I saw it often when I spent a year in Seoul, South Korea, and you can see it in Japan as well, among other nations in the general area. We all know that L knows many different languages and cultures, but I think the fandom (or at least the English-speaking fandom I know) most often just embraces L’s eccentric behavior without thinking about what it says about him and his life. It’s a shame – I think just about all of us here like L, and it seems to me that we risk missing out on some of the richness of his character. ****

Alright now, if you liked Chapter One ****, let's mosy along to the next…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene takes place when Mello comes to Near's headquarters and speaks with him. It features a few lines from canon, but most of the dialogue is original. It's basically a deleted sequence from the canon scene.

**Chapter Two: Revenge of the Ronin**

"Near, I have no intention of joining forces with you."

"I know. And it's such a shame. I know you despise me, but I don't completely hate you – in fact, I daresay you're one of the few people I feel a connection with. I prefer to work alone, yet I know that the two of us working together would be far more efficient. It was what Roger wanted…and if L could advise us now, I think he would want it too, if only for the sake of capturing Kira. Mello…" Near looked at him over his shoulder. "Do you know the Legend of the Forty-seven Ronin?"

"…Yes. The samurai who banded together against the lord that killed their master, sometime in the 17th century…"

"Yes. If you recall, while the revenge plot was successful, the ronin themselves were commanded to commit _seppuku_ as punishment for their crime, and so they gave up their lives for the cause. It's rather daunting, isn't it? There were forty-seven of them and only three of us – if we include Matt – and it took all forty-seven of them to bring down the Kira of the legend. It's too bad we couldn't join forces…then we would be far less likely to be annihilated…" He took one of his many dice in hand and rolled it idly, hardly blinking when it settled on four.

The look on Mello's face was extremely ugly. "I know that story too, Near. You've conveniently left out the most important part. All the ronin gave up their lives – _all except one_ …"

"Yes, the youngest," Near said carelessly, and that seemed to throw Mello off balance. "I left that part out because I didn't want to alienate you, and also because I hope it won't be repeated. Yes, I fully intend to succeed against Kira, with or without your help. And yes, I intend to survive – but I hope that you will, too. Once Kira is caught, I suspect the world will start to seem boring again. But I will never be truly bored while you are around."

"Hmm. I can't say I'd be sorry to see you go. But on the other hand, if you were killed before I'd beaten you myself, I'd never be truly satisfied. In fact, if I truly wanted to prove myself the best, I would have no choice but to hunt down your killer to avenge you, even if it took me the rest of my life…"

"Mmm. I figured as much. But I'm touched by your honesty."

"Go to hell."

"If I do, I shall wait for you there."

Mello grinned and looked quite frightening for a moment, his new scar standing out, livid, against his pale features. "You don't believe in Hell, do you? But perhaps you'd change your mind if you saw some of the things I've seen recently. And since you returned my picture to me, I don't mind dropping a couple of hints. Suffice it to say that…the murder notebook is a Death God's notebook. People who touch it are able to see the Death God."

"I-impossible…" said Rester.

"Who's going to believe that?" said Gevanni.

"I believe him," said Near. "What advantage is there in coming up with such a stupid story? If he were lying, he would tell me a normal – more meaningful – lie. So the Death God exists."

"You bet your ass it does," said Mello. "One more thing. There is a fake rule hidden amongst the rules written in the notebook. That's all the information I can give you."

"No it's not. We both know you're holding back. But I won't press you for information – you've already given me far more than I would ever have expected. I guess it's too late to ask you to reconsider working alone….But I will warn you not to become too reckless in your quest to surpass me."

Near rolled again, and this time he got a three. "Can I tell you one more story? I don't think you've heard this one. It's about the place I grew up in."

"Why is it relevant now?" Mello growled.

"It's not, really. But wait, don't go just yet. I grew up right here in this city, you know, before Wammy's House ****– that's a large part of the reason I'm based here. Anyway…the thing is, I lived ****just a few blocks from Tower 270, which was the original headquarters of The Manhattan Project. I could see it from my window. Just think – all those years ago, the end of World War II and the subjugation of all Japan was being plotted right in that building…"

Near trailed off for a moment, and Mello rolled his eyes as he waited for him to continue.

"Once upon a time," Near eventually went on, "Japan dreamed of ruling all East Asia, and maybe even beyond it, uniting the nations under the banner of an emperor the Japanese revered as a _kami_. It took the atomic bomb to shake the country out of its delusions and put it back in its proper place. Now a Japanese has risen up calling himself a _kami_ and seeking to subdue the world – d'you think he didn't love making the US, and New York, and _Manhattan_ , bow down to him? – and it is our job to stop him. Even now we're not more than a few miles from that old building on the corner of Broadway and Chambers, not to mention many other places in this city that were once important to the Project. Once upon a time, the US showed Japan the full might of Western power and technology. We need to destroy Kira utterly, so that he and his ideology can never rise again. And while I may be small…I pack a punch."

For a moment, Mello stood staggered at this little speech. _I always knew you were a toxic little bastard_ , he thought, looking Near up and down. Completely white, he almost seemed to glow.

"So you do believe in fate," he said. "I'm surprised."

Near shrugged. "My logical mind will never accept it, but since when have humans been rational animals?"

"Hmm." The silence stretched between them, and Near rolled another four. After a moment more, Mello made to leave. However, he almost immediately turned on his heel again, as if unable to go without taking the last word.

"Near," he called.

"Mello."

"Which of us is going to get to Kira first? You talk big, and yet I don't suppose you've ever experimented with _real_ explosives. Well, I have. We'll see who has what it takes to topple Kira."

"The race is on…" said Near.

"Our destination is the same. I'll be waiting for you when you get there, Kira's head in my hands. I'll bring it to L – something you could never understand." Mello turned to leave.

"I think you underestimate my regard for L," Near said quietly.

"Really? I thought you made yourself clear all those years ago. Just a loser and nothing more, isn't that right?"

"No. It still angers and pains me to know that L lost, but that's because I respect him. It should never have happened. I know now that I can never be what L was, any more than you can. Even if I bring in Kira on my own, that will still be true. You may never surpass me, Mello, but I have already accepted that I will never surpass L. It's infuriating, and yet…there's a certain peace that comes with that knowledge. Try to remember that, won't you?"

Mello's eyes narrowed. "You little bastard. Would you have me think you've given up the game? I don't believe that for a second. You live for the game, maybe even more than I do. It'll make victory all the sweeter when I get to the finish line before you."

"We'll see about that," Near said softly.

"I'll see you around," Mello said darkly, and left. Near rolled a two, a five, and then three fours in a row.

 

 **A/N** : It's a marker of how long ago I thought this scene up that it was partially inspired by the Watchman movie (it's a pretty bad movie, btw, though I've heard the comic's much better. One of the movie's many crimes is the misuse of the song "The Sound of Silence."). When I watched the movie, one thing that really did stick with me was the idea of a personified atom bomb – one that knew what it what it had done, and was sorry. Of course, Near is no angsty Dr. Manhattan, but still, I really like the idea of him as a kind of personified, glowing atom bomb, putting an end to Kira like the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings ended Imperial Japan. I didn't consciously draw inspiration from Dr. Manhattan and his glowing blue dong, but after first drafting the scene I realized the similarity. I hope it came across as suitably weird/discomfiting.

Everyone knows that L's more-or-less British, and it seems that Mello's background is Germanic or something like that (his last name should be pronounced "kehl," and that's German; plus he looks Nordic). But I've never encountered theories about where Near is from. As for me, I think he's most likely American. The US Government creates the SPK after Near speaks with the President, which suggests to me that Near's a US citizen. The other SPK agents are selected from the FBI and CIA, which suggests that they, at least, are definitely American just like Raye Penber. The SPK's base is in New York City, as iconic an American city as they come. Near's name is also very Anglo-Saxon, and since the idea of Near being British like L doesn't seem right to me, that pretty much leaves the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa as possible places of origin. Of those, only the US seems to suit him. He's brasher and more colloquial in his speech than L, more playful and yet somehow colder. To me, he is the American to L's Brit. And that would seem fitting to me, given that Britain was once the world's dominant power, but eventually passed the torch to the US.

Yes, I realize I'm making DN into Hetalia. Deal with it. On to the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows the manga ending of the series. This is mostly because it was more convenient for the purposes of the scene to have Light die in the Yellow Box Warehouse, where the other characters are, than by himself in another place. It's also because the scene, I think, can be seen as a buffer between Light's death and the manga epilogue.

**Chapter 3: The Rotting End**

"And so it ends," Near murmured, as the task force Light had led now set about cleaning up their leader's body and washing away the blood. Rester and Gevanni had already taken Mikami away to a secret location to be dealt with later. Near, his task finished, sat on the ground and watched the scene before him with a feeling of unreality. His SPK and the Japanese task force could well have been an alien species for all the connection he felt with them – far less, in fact, than he felt with the pathetic body on the floor. Now that Light was gone, Near's last intellectual rival had disappeared, and Near felt strangely alone. Proud, but alone.

One thing that struck Near, as he stared at the mess of flesh and blood, was the surprising and tragic youth of Light Yagami. If Light had looked young in the photograph Near owned, he had appeared even more so in person, and Near found it depressing to see such a brilliant young man die this way. Near's supreme contempt for Light's ideals remained intact, but…there was no denying that too much young brilliance had already been lost in this investigation.

It was ironic – and beyond that, it was disturbing – how closely Kira's downfall resembled L's own. At the age of 18, Kira had defeated and usurped the position of L, who had just passed his 25th birthday. Now 18 himself, Near had usurped the usurper, who had just been approaching his own 24th birthday. Was the lesson of all this, then, that the young always surpassed the old? That the world now sped along at such a pace that one generation was supplanted by the next almost before it had grown? What a depressing thought. And what would that mean for Near himself? Just how long could he expect to reign as L, before the next one came to conquer him? It was like some Shakespearean revenge tragedy gone crazy.

Or not – nothing so worthy or noble as that. As for himself, Near knew that he and Mello were no equals to L and Kira. And Wammy's itself had degenerated ever since its founder died – Roger kept the standards fairly close to what they had been, but one day he too would die and then there would be no one with the drive to restore the orphanage into what it had once been. Wammy, though a true philanthropist and believer in justice, had worked so hard for the project largely because of his personal attachment to the original L, the desire to help his beloved, ambitious ****protégé leave as large a stamp on the world as possible. But who could summon that kind of passion to keep replacing faceless detectives who met their destruction after a few years? And who could summon the sort of fanatical passion that L himself had put into the job?

The figure of blind Lady Justice, as she stood (in Near's mind) outside the New York courthouse close to his birthplace, was a wonderful ideal, but an unrealistic one, and even if one accepted the original L as her embodiment on Earth, like some strange Pope Peter, one could never accept his successors as such. The institution of L – for that was what it had become, already – would survive for a long time yet, and do great good even as the detectives degenerated, but over the long march of years it would decay until, in some distant future time, it would collapse.

* * *

Matsuda could hardly muster the willpower to stand, let alone help the others with the process of erasing the evidence. He forced himself to do something constructive, taking orders from Aizawa and sometimes Lidner, but the tornado in his brain was such that he hardly knew what he was doing. All the many possible forms of pain seemed to have flooded into him at once.

Everything the task force had done had been so useless, Matsuda thought – everything _he_ had done, even the stuff that seemed important at the time. Even before the real L's death, they had been worse than useless, and afterward they had helped Kira to take over L's position, and had done his dirty work for years without ever realizing it. The chief – Soichiro Yagami – had believed deeply in true justice, and Light had deceived him into dedicating everything he had, including his life, to the very evil he had tried to fight against. And Light…oh, Light. Had he ever been a good person the way Matsuda had thought him, or had he always been secretly evil? It would be much easier if Light had always been evil, because then Matsuda would not have to feel sorry for him. Oh, but he did. Even if Light had been born evil, didn't that deserve some pity? But if he had once been good…the tragedy was ten times worse. That Light could fall so far, and Soichiro could die the way he did, and Sayu could become so broken, and Sachiko be left alone and sad forever….The tragedy of the Yagamis, Matsuda's favourite people in the world, was just too much to take.

But the tragedy went beyond them, he felt. Aside from the obvious tragedy of the many thousands dead – a tragedy to which Matsuda had long acquired some immunity as he worked on the case – Matsuda felt humiliated on behalf of his country. The Japanese Kiras had shamed the nation in front of the entire world, and the Japanese task force set to stop them had been useless at best, accomplices at worst. It had taken a troop of Westerners, beginning with L, to swoop in and defeat them – both the Kiras and the obstructive task force. On the one hand, this thought shamed him deeply, but on the other hand it made him almost perversely sorry that Kira had lost, if only for his nation's glory. And now that Kira was gone…never in his life had Matsuda had so powerful a sense that he could see into the future. Revelation seemed to strike him then, and he felt he could see all that was coming in the times ahead….Anti-Japanese sentiment worldwide at highs it had not seen since the end of World War II. Crime rising again in Japan as everywhere else, and things all seeming to break down once more. Everything moving so fast without moving forward, one lost decade after another, power declining year by year. Matsuda saw a nation rotting.

Matsuda was an optimist by nature, but as he helped to clean up the mess of Light's blood – Light, Matsuda's trusted friend and leader whom he had shot – he could feel the blackness spreading through his heart like poison. Shame, and guilt, and anger, and hopelessness, and sadness, sludged thickly through his veins, and he…he would never be the same. The despair might fade with time, but at the moment all he could feel was disgust and hatred for himself and everyone around him. His stupid task force colleagues, Near's coldhearted lackeys, and Near himself….Anger surged up in him as he took in the picture of Near just sitting on the ground while the others worked: twirling a piece of hair in his fingers and staring into space like a zombie, showing no emotion whatsoever. How dare he just sit there as if nothing had happened, when _everything_ had? When Matsuda's world had come crashing down around him? How dare he feel nothing when Light Yagami, the most perfect person Matsuda had ever known, now lay dead in a sea of his own black blood? For this, and for all his other coldness, Matsuda would never be able to forgive him.

* * *

Near caught Matsuda staring at him, and locked eyes with him for a moment until Matsuda looked away. He wouldn't be sorry to see the back of that one, Near thought to himself. He was amazed that a person as idiotic and spineless as Matsuda had managed to see the investigation through to the end, and had in fact been the one to shoot Light when the others had been too slow to react. But as Light himself had proved, idealism was a powerful force, and Near suspected that that was what had seen Matsuda through the years of the case. It would be interesting to see, whenever Near's work next led him to Japan, if that idealism survived today intact. Near suspected it would not. Well, if a foolish man was made a little less so by Kira, that was something. But then again, perhaps the loss of hope in a man like Matsuda was a sign of degeneration, too.

For all his faults, Kira had been right about one thing: everything in the world degenerated. The speed at which the world moved – apparently forward – these days in fact only accelerated the process. In trying to fix this rot, Light – one of the few things in the world still untouched by it, until he found the Death Note – had corrupted everything good in himself, degenerating unawares until at last he found himself begging anyone who would listen to save his pathetic life. In such a rotting world, it was probably best to not think about such things, but try to be upbeat like Matsuda had been, and do what little good it was possible to do in the world. Surely, there were good things to think about…first of all, Kira had been defeated, and second, Near had come out of the game on top and uncontested, able to take over the position of L on his own and keep it for as long as he could stay alive. But it was still depressing to think of how long the case had taken, how many resources had been wasted and people killed for one young man's stupid, twisted dreams. Thousands of faceless people, for whom Near couldn't muster deep emotion, even though he felt he should…

And L, Mello and Matt. Men of their caliber _did not_ deserve to die like that, Near felt deeply. It wasn't fair that so much talent and intellect should be turned to dust, and those young men be cut down who could have done the rotting world so much good.

But then, when had the Universe ever given a shit about what was fair?

"Three times unlucky," he murmured to himself, with some weariness. "Well…I guess four was our lucky number, after all."

 

 **A/N** : I hope my story doesn't seem like too much of a downer. For the record, I'm an optimist and don't believe all that stuff about the world rotting. I'm just trying to build on canon. In fact, the whole idea of a rotting world probably fascinates me partly because it's contrary to my own thoughts.

The reference in this chapter to "one lost decade after another" reflects the rather grey economic situation Japan has faced since the early 1990s. The years before the millennium were basically a bust, and while the country experienced some growth in the early 2000s, the economic crisis unsurprisingly fucked it all up again. In 2010 in real life, China overtook Japan as the world’s second-largest economy, and naturally some saw this as a sign of Japan’s fading power in the world relative to its huge neighbour. Also, while modern Japan has always found it hard to keep a prime minister for very long, the last few years have seemed especially bad; I have a pet theory (I can’t help it, I study literature!) that Light in DN represents a strong and authoritative Japanese leader such as the country has arguably not seen since WWII. I’d say that overall, the real Japan in 2010 was not a country with an especially optimistic or sunny vision of the future, which means that it fit rather well with the DN manga epilogue. It wasn’t all gloom and doom, of course – they did well in the 2010 World Cup, for example. Just, maybe, a feeling that their glory days as _the_ important East Asian country are now over.

Like Chapter One, this chapter was originally going to be two different scenes - in this case, one focusing on Near and one on Matsuda. Since their thoughts are so in sync, I just stitched the scenes together by the mutual enmity between the characters XD Anyway, let's continue to the fourth story in this trilogy. It's a drabble featuring Ryuk, so you know it'll be fun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's my little "Bonus Mini," a drabble to end the story. This drabble is rated G for everyone, or possibly A for apples. Enjoy!

**Chapter Four: A Barrelful of Apples**

"Hey, Light?" Ryuk asked suddenly, as Light was preparing to go to bed after finishing his Kira duties.

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you. How do you know that this little plan of yours is going to work? I mean, how do you know that getting rid of criminals is gonna make the rest of the world be good?"

"Well…" Light suddenly smiled. "Think of it this way, Ryuk. There is a barrelful of fresh, juicy apples of just the kind that you like best. However, hidden among those apples are some rotten ones, whose disease can spread to the whole barrel if they are not removed quickly. Pick out the rotten apples and you save the rest. It's as simple as that."

"Mmmmm, then I'll have an entire barrelful of big, juicy apples to _devour_!" Ryuk said happily, licking his lips.

Light sighed. "Ryuk, I don't think you'll ever understand me."

 _Oh, yeah?_ Thought Ryuk as Light went to go floss his teeth. _Maybe I understand you better than you do…_

End

 

 **A/N** : Why don't more people make the "rotten apples" analogy for Kira? It seems so obvious, but I can't remember seeing it in another fic. Huh. Maybe I just have amnesia.

Well, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this disconnected blob I call a story. See you around!


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